


You've Gotta Be Kitten Me!

by ErisianDiva78



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Also there's a cat, Gen, John is the reason they can't have nice things, Sarcasm, Snark, and her name is Dammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisianDiva78/pseuds/ErisianDiva78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day on the job for Detective Kennex.  Y'know, if your job entails having to deal with stubborn DRNs, the Quarantine Zone near the wall, having your car smell like something died in it.. and adopting a cat.  Yup.  Just another day at the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Gotta Be Kitten Me!

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the AHFanCon Scramble. Gen, no romance, no pairings. Unless you count John bonding with a cat despite his allergies and being Sergeant Grumpy… 
> 
> Unbeta’d, unedited, all errors are mine. Please don’t flame me too badly if it sucks…
> 
> This is a companion piece (and a possible prequel if you tilt your head and squint) to 'What's Your Major Malfunction?!'
> 
> Oneshot

He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened.  They’d been chasing after a couple of perps and attempting to shut down a vicious outbreak of the Bends overdoses.  The perps had led them toward one of the dumps just outside the quarantine zone, and then seemingly vanished. John had been up to his waist in god only knew what sort of refuse and trash, when he’d come across the blood.  It wasn’t much, but it was enough to push him into overdrive.  Murder? Violence?  He wasn’t sure.  Without Dorian nearby, he couldn’t even tell if the blood was human in origin.

So when he nearly stepped on the small, broken body, it was a bit of a shock.  There were particulates in the air, and as he breathed them in, he could feel his airway beginning to constrict a little.  Between sneezes and wheezing, he managed to call Dorian over.  ”You find anything?”  He rubbed at his nose, and tried to ignore the way his eyes began itching and swelling.  Damned cats.  Grudgingly, he silently admitted that it was a shame to see such violence against such a small, mostly helpless creature.  They were a rare find, cats, out in the wild.  Most were clones, living in the homes of the wealthy.

Dorian shook his head.  ”No, I’ve lost their signal.  I’ve radioed dispatch for a drone to circle the area.  With any luck, we’ll pick it back up soon.”  Between the water and the fact that they were up to their armpits in filth, the DRN couldn’t track the perps.  Great.  Well, at least they weren’t being shot at.  

John made a face and turned, wanting to get out of the filth and refuse, especially since it was yet another pair of boots he was going to have to incinerate.  That was when he heard it.  It was faint, and very, very wet sounding.

It was a soft meow.

Dorian was off like a shot after the sound, and came up with a mostly waterlogged little kitten.  Tabby, like its mother, the tiny thing had crusted-over eyes and was utterly filthy.  Fleas could be seen crawling over its short fur, and John was  _certain_ it was diseased.  ”You’re kidding me, right?”  He glowered at it.  And sneezed.

Dorian grinned, blue lights flickering up his face.  He shook his head.  ”John, do you have any idea the probability that this kitten could have survived not only birth, but as long as it has out here?  It’s a statistical anomaly.  We should take it back with us.”

"What, as a suspect? Or a witness?"  John growled and turned, stalking through the rubbish.  His boots were squishy, he was wet and filthy and he was past due on some noodles.  Shift was almost over and he was  _not_ taking a damned cat into the car.  ”You’re gonna get fleas all over the inside of the car.  I’m not taking it with us.”

"John, have a heart.  This little cat will die without our assistance."

"Have a heart, he says."  John snorted, still moving away from the pair.  There was no way he was going to allow the cat in the car.

Which, of course, meant that after they’d made it back, the DRN sat happily in the passenger seat with the small beast.  It purred, though it could barely see.  ”We should take her to a vet.  I’m certain we can find one open.”  He disco-faced again.  ”Ah, I have three that are on our way back to the precinct.  You should stop at Call’s Veterinary Clinic.”

John just stared at him, from where he’d stopped just outside the vehicle.  In his mind, he could  _see_ the fleas jumping from the tiny, squirmy body and into the interior of his car.  It mewled pathetically, earning John a rather scathing look from the DRN.  ”Dorian.  I’m serious.  Drop the cat outside the car.  We’re not going.”

The car lurched a little, causing John to jump.  He grabbed onto the roof of the car and the open door, as though he could stop the car from the outside. “WOAH! Hey! No! Dorian, I mean it! Don’t you do that!”  He jumped in, not wanting to be left behind without his vehicle.  Or his DRN.  And as he sat in the driver’s seat, he glowered at his passenger and the small, squirmy mass in his large hands.  ”I really hate you right now.”

But it was clear that the DRN had won the argument.  They pulled up outside the clinic and John remained sitting.  He sneezed into his sleeve and glowered, with red-rimmed eyes, at Dorian.  ”You take it.  I can’t go in there.”  

Dorian disappeared with the small creature, and John was left sitting in the cruiser to tend to his wounded pride (and allergic reaction to the evil that was the kitten).  

~*~

Watching Dorian exiting the clinic with a small, blanket-wrapped bundle did not make John’s heart grow three sizes larger.  His coffee had long since gotten cold, he was still hungry, and the cruiser was beginning to smell like the quarantined area.  If anything, the detective’s heart had shrunk in size.  So when Dorian settled, smiling crookedly, John growled.  ”Feel better?  Can we go now?  I’d really like a shower.  And a drink.  And some goddamned noodles.”  In that order.  And he really,  _really_ wanted to burn his clothes.

Dorian smiled beatifically and hummed.  ”We’re going to take the kitten to your apartment, John.  She needs a stable place to live.”

"What? NO! No. No we’re not.  Take it to Rudy’s.  Take it to Sandra’s.  Anywhere but my place.  Do you  _want_ to kill me?”  Both hands were up and the eyebrows were inching toward his hairline.

The DRN laughed.  He  _laughed._ And handed John a small bottle.  

"What’s this?"  

"Allergy pills, John.  The Vet suggested them, and had them inside for people looking to overcome their allergies."

"So, what, you just took pills from some Vet and you expect me to take ‘em?  Are you nuts?"

"No, John.  These are sanctioned and perfectly safe.  I tested one before I brought them out.  After all, Princess will need you to be in good health."

"Oh great." He deadpanned.  "You named it."  Princess.   _Princess._ There was no way John was calling the creature Princess.  But as a precaution, he took the bottle and dry-swallowed three of the pills.  No way he was drinking cold coffee.  

"I went ahead and contacted the Captain and told her we were going to be stopping off at your place so you could clean up.  I didn’t tell her about Princess."

John rolled his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  The pain that seemed ever-present in Dorian’s presence was building.  Great.  Cat in the house.  He didn’t have food, a litter box, anything that the damned thing needed.  ”You do know I don’t have anything for the cat, right?”

Dorian smiled again.  ”I know, John.  That’s why you’re going to take Princess and I’m going to get supplies.  I can’t take her into the store with me.”

"No. No, I’m not."  Default setting for the day seemed to be ‘no,’ for John.  But he wasn’t budging.  He wasn’t budging.  He wasn’t…

He was sitting with a fucking cat in his arms.  And the damned thing had burrowed into the crook of his elbow and was purring and kneading contentedly.  And Dorian?  Benedict Android was inside the store next to the Veterinary Clinic getting the necessary supplies.

"Not a word."  John growled, when Dorian came back out.  But the smile was totally worth it.

"I see nothing."  Dorian smiled.  

And if John didn’t immediately hand the kitten back over to Dorian while he drove to his place, no one needed to know.  He did change the cat’s name to Dammit as soon as he got Dorian back to Rudy’s.  And refused to talk about the fact that the damned thing liked to sit in his lap while he watched the game.  And while he read over case files.  She slept on his head when he slept.

Nope, he wouldn’t talk about it.  Not at all.


End file.
